"Then I won't spoil it by coming in now!" called Paul, who was keeping out of the focus of the camera by crouching down behind some bushes. He had heard what Russ said, and had given up his plan of rushing to rescue Ruth. Evidently there was no need.
The deer, strange to say, did not seem at all alarmed, and stood gazing at Ruth with great brown eyes. She too, realizing that she was not to be harmed, acted more naturally now, and with an appreciation of what was needed to make the film a proper one.
She first "registered" fear, and then delighted surprise, at seeing the animal.
I might explain that in making moving pictures certain directions are given to the actors. As they can not depend on speaking words to let the audiences know what is going on, they must intimate, by appropriate gesture, or facial expression, the action of the play. This is called "registering," and when in the directions, or scenario, an actor or actress is told to "register" fear, surprise, anger, love, jealousy—in fact any of the emotions—he or she knows what is meant.
In this case Ruth was without specific directions save those called out by Russ. And often, in an emergency a good moving picture camera operator can save a film from being spoiled by improvising some "stage directions," if I may call them such.
"Shall I approach him, Russ?" Ruth asked, as she saw that the deer showed no intentions of fleeing.
"Yes, if he'll let you. It will make a dandy scene."
"Not too close," cautioned Paul, who was still out of sight behind the bushes, waiting until he could properly come into the scene. "He might accidentally hit you with a sweep of his horns."
"I'll be careful," answered Ruth. "I believe the poor thing is hungry."
"If we only had something to feed him!" exclaimed Russ. "That would work in fine."